


Tale of Two Sides

by Dustfinger12



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Might be some violence, some language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8559730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustfinger12/pseuds/Dustfinger12
Summary: The Hero's journey has been long and hard. The domain of his arch nemesis is in front of him all he has to do is go inside and kill them. However, his nemesis is a little more than he can handle.





	1. Unlikely Nemesis

     I’ve trained my entire life for this moment. Hours of training, being counselled by the masters of philosophy and strategy. Since my birth, I was told I was the one to bring down the evil ruler. It was me the gods have chosen. I am the chosen one. And as I walk into the final chamber an almost giddy excitement fills me. A towering dais casts a menacing shadow. Peering upward offers no reward and reluctantly, I climb.

     The top seems to run further away with every step and when all hope is lost I reach the top huffing and puffing. Good for nothing training. Sweat pours down my back offering no relief to the inferno that is my armor. My face is flushed. “Have I already taken your breath away? How sweet,” an almost feminine voice chimed. The whole stairs ordeal left me so distracted that I didn’t notice a person standing in front of me. I was never told I’d be facing a woman. My attention veers to the voice. Any words I am going to say falter as I look ahead of me. She is a man and he is naked. Blood rushes to my cheeks for a new reason. I gape at my supposed arch nemesis in all his ummm… What is a good word for it? Natural glory? No. It might be natural but it isn’t glorious. Birthday suit? No. Birthdays are supposed to fun and this certainly isn’t. Never mind it isn’t important let’s just say he is naked.

     “Didn’t your mother teach you not to stare?” he asked flashing a brilliant smile. His teeth were a stark contrast to his ebony skin. “I just expected a great villain to…” I falter. What do I expect? Well for one, I expected him to be clothed, but I’m not going to say that. It doesn’t sound very hero-like. “I just expect you to be a little more gifted below the belt,” I goad. That’ll work. Villains always have big egos and this should shrink it a little. “Apparently, she didn’t teach you manners either,” he mumbles, “you have to realize I am fabulous in every way and a slightly smaller penis makes no difference.” He saunters elegantly over to me looking up and down. Quick as a viper, I cover my already clothed chest and loins. The monks never taught me how to deal with this and they certainly didn’t tell me about him. “Plus I think you can make up for all my short comings,” he said giving me another gorgeous smile. There is a lull in the conversation as I am trying to process what is happening and there was no way of knowing what shut his trap. “I’ve decided to be generous,” he concludes. What horrible torture is he going to put me through? Images flash. There might be enough of me to identify who I am. Everything else would be a reddish pulp so foul smelling that a troll wouldn’t go near it. There is no evidence that flesh smells this way, but that is how I always imagine it.

     “You can prove to me that you aren’t just a shallow asshole over dinner. My treat of course,” he says. Before an answer is given, he saunters to a door hidden by a curtain. “Oh I almost forgot. It will be at 6:30 sharp, formal attire only. Jenkins will show you to your room,” he adds before disappearing. I don’t want to go to dinner with this wacko. The only positive thing is that it gives me time to plan.


	2. Odd Events

     The ceiling is barely visible and only a hint of the wall can be seen. The light piercing through the window only enhances the atmosphere. Vanilla wafts throughout the room and as my hand runs over the bed sheets the soft velvet and sweet smell take my senses away. The situation is forgotten. At least, it is for a second. A knock intrudes on my thoughts and it is found that I must have fallen asleep for a minute. Again the knock sounds quieter than the last. Blinking a few time drives the crust from my eyes and a swift hand wipes the drool from my face though it does nothing to hid the evidence on the pillow. I can feel the armor's weight pressing against my chest. Armor is never comfortable sleepwear. The soft tapping is reminds me the reason for my waking. "Just a second," I call. Within a few strides, I am at the door and open it for the newcomer. Hidden from view is a small mousy looking girl hunched over as though to make herself smaller. "My master wishes me to give you a bath," she whispers, "he describes your smell as one that could be found at the rear end of a horse... or something like that." Honesty must be one of those "fabulous" qualities he boasts about. And he calls me rude. 

     "Is something wrong sir?" she inquires. I shake my head to clear it. "Tell him I can wash myself," I say. Her expression pales hearing this. She becomes nervous. Well, more nervous. "B-b-but sir I am only doing my job and he will get angry," she stammers getting softer and softer. This gives me an idea. "Does he get angry often?" I question. "No sir, in fact I have never seen him angry before, and I intend on keeping it that way. You know what they say about a gentle man's wrath," she says. I didn't know what they say about a gentle man's wrath and I have no intention on telling her. Couldn't let a servant think I'm ignorant like them. It would be embarrassing. "Tell him I refuse," I say turning my back to her. I can hear her feet shift from one to the other before walking back to her master. It is petty to argue over a bath but if that's what it takes for him to fight then so be it. I would never want it to be written down in the books. Hero kills the Villain over a bath. I mean he's eccentric enough and maybe a bath is the thing that will push him over the edge. 

     The door opens unannounced as the Villain storms in the room. "How dare you make Mouse cry," he says, his voice never rising. Finally I see the real beast, or maybe not. "I should kick you out right now," he says. No warnings are given as a flash of movement pushes me into the water below. The previously hot bath is only slightly warmer than room temperature. It is enough for me to feel as though I am boiling in my already hot armor. "Now let us get that clunky armor off shall we?" he asks with a wink. He takes off each piece masterfully considering his lack of clothing. "You know I don't normally do this until I've been on at least two dates," he says. "Forcing someone to take baths?" I ask confused. "No take off their close," he replies a twinkle in his eye. Somehow, through his anger, he manages to flirt.

     That man is insufferable. He is supposed to be my mortal enemy and he just spent an hour scrubbing an unholy amount of soap into every nook of my body even the parts where only the Gods know about. And what is his excuse? "I am just getting you used to what's to come later." What does that even mean? Does he take some sick pleasure in putting soap up people's bum holes. What makes it worse is that I smell of lavender and almonds. I hate almonds.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second part of the story. It's not finished so it might take a while for the next few chapters. Sorry if the tense changes. I'm not used to writing in present tense and a few slips might happen Enjoy

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy


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